There is poetry in ***** plates,in the
demo and undemocratic states of undress
unless of course I am mistaken.
I see it everywhere,
in the **** on the street in the litter that people keep dropping
poetry in what I see and what I see is poetry,
foul mouthed,open mouthed and blast it out,shoot from the lips,shoot from the hips,nicetones,ricetones,break the bones of your audience,if they had any sense they'd be up on the stage venting their lines in prose or in rhymes.

On page thirty three when they write a book about me there will be this;

If you don't like me to rhyme
you still have the time
to *******.

No apology friends my life is a means to an end and the end when it comes will run into many more ends,many more friends and poetry goes on,in the dead and the gone,in the fast and the quick,lick your lips have a go,put your poetry on show
just do it
or go on your way.